


Haunted

by OkamiShadou98



Series: Lucifer One-shots [10]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angst, I don't know how to tag this, Post Season 3, Reflection, he can't stop thinking about Chloe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:55:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26273710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OkamiShadou98/pseuds/OkamiShadou98
Summary: Even though Chloe's far away in Rome, she's all Lucifer can think about.Her face haunted his waking dreams. A silhouette of shadow which lurked in all corners of the room, traipsing across the ceiling with the same sluggishness of the moonlight. He knew her scent and her heartbeat, a punishment unto itself. For how could he ever be allowed to rest if every breath he took was also hers? Two chests rising and falling in synchronized repose despite the ocean which separated them.
Series: Lucifer One-shots [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1673098
Comments: 14
Kudos: 42





	Haunted

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a little thing I did. I love this writing style but it's too intense to maintain for a full fic.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Her face haunted his waking dreams. A silhouette of shadow which lurked in all corners of the room, traipsing across the ceiling with the same sluggishness of the moonlight. He knew her scent and her heartbeat, a punishment unto itself. For how could he ever be allowed to rest if every breath he took was also hers? Two chests rising and falling in synchronized repose despite the ocean which separated them. 

It was her skin he felt at night.

And for all the things they’d never shared, still he yearned. She’d graced his bed but once yet he could feel the weight of her supine form, golden tresses tickling his bare shoulder. 

But every morning, the sheets remained unwrinkled and despair pounded beneath his breast, a hollow echo of those diminishing memories of sunlight, of fantasies of a better life.

Lacking the physical, he sought her spirit. She could be found in the stiff ocean breeze, the slippery greased wrapper of a grilled cheese. Every siren wail was air after being submerged in iceberg scattered open water. 

His heart was beating, but only just. A downtrodden rhythm threatening to sputter and die.

Her name lived in his mouth, tongue curled around the letters. Every whistling breath he took was a whisper.

Chloe.

Chloe.

Chloe.

The club pulsed with life but high above in his tower of ice, he watched the sun and moon do battle across the sky. All roads lead to Rome, as did his, but her journey was her own. So he stood, a sentinel marking time, and imagined her pale skin dappled by the fading sunset and sunrise.

He would pray for her return if someone would listen. The line had long been tangled and dead, the connection cut and rotted. Pressured silence throbbed in his head, a reminder of all which had been lost, crumbled silver edges of a former time.

The only place she did not reside was in the mirror with him beside. His reflection knew no partner, no soft smile or rainy blue eyes. Her presence would shift and fade as dispersed smoke, leaving him behind to study the red face he despised. 

Her face haunted his waking dreams, just as his own haunted hers. 

But whereas it was the distance between them which brought him to his knees, he knew she saw the same and was relieved.

Because monsters belong only in bad dreams.


End file.
